


Determined Events

by Cryptographic_Delurk



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: 'Mundane' Problems, Except when it's happy, Gen, Not Happy, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, POV Third Person, Post-Pacifist Route, True Pacifist Route, Vignettes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-24 20:32:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6165868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptographic_Delurk/pseuds/Cryptographic_Delurk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <br/>
  <i>Be careful in the outside world, okay? Despite what everyone thinks, it's not as nice as it is here.</i>
</p><p>Monsters return to the surface. It's not what everyone thought it would be.</p><p>A series of post-True Pacifist Route ficlets. Major and minor character POVs. As more are added, a plot should start to emerge.<br/><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Endogeny

Endogeny slobbered ferociously onto the carpet. Its orifices were leaking froth all over the plush white flooring. Doggo had just arranged for the carpet's installation, and Endogeny felt vaguely guilty for messing it up so quickly, but it was just so happy.

Greater Dog licked behind Endogeny's ear and made his happy face. Endogeny returned the favour. Greater Dog barked happily and went to fetch a couple of dog treats from the cupboard. He set them out on the carpet, so they could play-fight over them. They growled menacingly at each other and nipped at each other's heels, before Endogeny sent out its feelers and absorbed the treats whole. Greater Dog took this in good grace and went to the cupboard to fetch a couple more treats for himself.

So content and happy and slobbery Endogeny was, it didn't even smell Dogamy and Dogaressa returning home from their jobs. But, when the door slammed open, Endogeny perked up immediately and bounded off to greet them. Dogamy and Dogaressa nuzzled each other’s’ noses briefly before reaching down to pet Endogeny. Endogeny turned easily into their paws and wagged its feelers. That dogs could pet other dogs – it really was a whole new world...

Dogamy and Dogaressa were distracted, though. Dogaressa leaned in to nuzzle Dogamy's nose again.

"I just don't understand why?" she said. "You've been trying your best at your new job, haven't you? Why would they fire you like that?!"

Dogamy's eyes drooped sadly.

"They said it was a problem... the way I slobbered over the security monitors... I..."

"But you always made sure to clean up after yourself, right?!" Dogaressa insisted. When Dogamy nodded, her eyes narrowed. "Why, this is discrimination!" she said. "They should be happy to have a great dog like you on security detail! A monster that's able to sniff out danger ahead of time! Why, at my job they appreciate me! They're always saving me the leftovers from the hotel restaurant, and packing them in doggy bags for me to take home."

Dogaressa lifted up the plastic bag she had brought with her. Endogeny could smell bits of steak and baked ziti, and leaned in covetously toward the bag. In the next room, Greater Dog could no doubt smell it too. He barked to beckon them further inside.

Dogaressa ignored them both. She swung the leftovers out of reach.

She shook her head at her husband sadly. "Oh, if only the hotel had another job for you." Her eyes narrowed. "You should go talk to your bosses again, though. Or hire a lawyer. If their company is inhospitable to monsters, then-"

"No, no..." Dogamy sighed. He looked down at the floor pitifully. "Part of it was that I was so sad to be apart from you," he admitted. "I may have spent too much time whining and whimpering to... feel comfortable demanding my job back."

"Oh, puppy..." Dogaressa said, as if she could not decide whether she was annoyed or touched. "I just don't know what we'll do," she said. "Rent and living expenses are all so much..."

"Well, at least we have one less mouth to feed."

Endogeny whined.

"Don't let Doggo hear you say that!" Dogaressa warned.

"Let me hear what?!" Doggo stuck his face out of his room suddenly.

Dogaressa and Dogamy both jumped, and then tried to hold themselves still.

"Don’t pretend you’re not there!” Doggo snarled. “What don’t you want me to hear?! That Lesser Dog found somebody to pet her! And to play fetch with her! And attach a leash and take her on walks! That Lesser Dog found a loving owner, and abandoned us! And I'm just a scary dog that no human’s ever going to like?!"

“We didn’t say any of those things,” Dogaressa said.

“Would you like me to pet you?” Dogamy asked curiously, reaching up to scratch at his chin with his paw.

Doggo pulled angrily at his spiked collar. It hadn’t made the statement he intended it to. He ignored the Dogi and his eyes set on Endogeny, who was convulsing rapidly and leaking froth all over the carpet.

“And you! Mom-Dad-Uncle-Cousin- _thing_! Stop messing all over the carpet!” he barked before retreating back into his room and slamming the door shut.

Endogeny whimpered sadly. It curled in on itself and let out a stream of slobber from one orifice.

“Don’t talk to Mom & Dad like that!” Dogaressa shouted at the closed door.

Dogamy patted his wife’s back.

“Go easy on him,” Dogamy said. “He’s having a hard time adjusting… And you know how much he wanted somebody to take him for walks…”

“Oh _I_ ’ll _take him for walks_!” Dogaressa snipped. “I know he’s upset. That doesn’t give him the right to shout like that.”

Dogamy reached down to pet Endogeny again. It made Endogeny feel a little better.

“Maybe we can all go to visit Lesser Dog,” Dogamy suggested. “It might help clear the air... And maybe her human will know another human that will look after Doggo.”

“Maybe…” Dogaressa said. “But we won’t be able to take Endogeny with us… you know how afraid the humans are of it… I wish we could take it outside.”

“Maybe someday we will…” Dogamy suggested. “Maybe someday they’ll understand it’s not dangerous. It’s only our relative.”

Dogaressa sighed, like she didn’t really believe that could ever happen.

Greater Dog stuck his head out from around the corner. He eyed Dogaressa’s doggy bag and made a goofy face.

Dogaressa seemed to remember herself. She handed the leftovers over to her husband. “Do you mind getting the dog bowls out, and dividing this up for me?” she asked. “We can talk about how to find you a new job over dinner!”

Dogamy nodded chivalrously and hustled off to the kitchen, followed by an eager Greater Dog.

Endogeny lagged behind, though. He crawled after Dogaressa as she made her way into the sitting room. She walked over and adjusted the trophy sitting on the mantle. _#1 Nose Nuzzle Champions_ it read.

“We’re all having trouble adjusting…” She turned to Endogeny. “I wish I could ask you for advice, mother.”

Endogeny undulated and reached out a feeler, but it didn’t know what to say.

Endogeny greatly enjoyed the leftover steak they had for dinner, even though there wasn’t enough of it. It less enjoyed being left alone in the apartment on the weekend, when the others went to visit Lesser Dog at her new home.

Endogeny slobbered and cried and peed on the carpet. It felt very lonely. And when crying for its relatives did no good, it cried for Lemon Bread and Reaper Bird and Alphys and Popato Chisps.

  



	2. Gyftrot

Gyftrot wanted some peace and quiet… so peace and quiet he _got_.

He curled up in the snow and looked tentatively over the cliffs down into Snowdin Forest. Light filtered through the earthen ceiling, making tiny little stars that he could barely understand. He appreciated this light more and less than he ever would have imagined, now that the only other sources of light were the glowing mushrooms and the fire from Jerry’s cabin.

Gyftrot sighed. He shivered in the cold snow, but that in of itself should have been nothing to a monster with such a plush coat, like himself.

When the monsters had left the underground, they had all placed gifts for him around the tree – for good luck, or in farewell, or in penance for their _constant_ troublemaking. Gyftrot had waited for them all to leave and opened them gladly. Gold and Cinnamon Bunnies and wooden carved salad tongs were common gifts, and Gyftrot had gleefully contemplated how rich he was, as he scarfed down the pastries.

But once the Cinnamon Bunnies were gone, he realised there was nowhere to spend the Gold. The two bunny sisters had closed shop. Gyftrot could sleep in the empty Snowed Inn (for _free_ ), but he’d have to light the fire himself and there wouldn’t be any room service. He could visit the Library, now that he didn’t have to pay his overdue fines… but the Libaray was less fun now too, without somebody he could yell at for being too noisy. And even Grillby’s provided no pleasure. Sure, everything there was, and always had been, too greasy to eat. Sure, the crowd that once hung out there had all been rowdy and idiotic… but they had also always greeted Gyftrot cheerfully when he sauntered inside.

 _I must be going crazy_ , Gyftrot thought. _You hated them… You hated every single one of them!_

It wasn’t true, but close enough. Not that it mattered. Gyftrot was terrified to realise that even the people he hated had been company. Even people he hated gave him gifts, and provided chances for him to escape his own thoughts. People like...

Gyftrot looked down at Jerry’s cabin again. He hadn’t seen Jerry in days. He hated Jerry. _Everyone_ hated Jerry. Jerry _sneezed_ without covering his mouth. He was always _taking the credit_ for the other monsters’ puzzle solving. And he _whined_ loudly every time he slipped on ice. (This happened every couple of minutes. _Buy some goddamn non-slip shoe pads!_ Gyftrot had shouted.)

But Jerry was the only other monster left – the only other voice in the silence of the empty underground. And more monsters, more voices were something Gyftrot was (in his worst moments) starting to think he needed. Without them, his subconscious was starting to imagine things. He could have sworn he had seen a fish monster gliding through the air the other day. And, the next day, and annoying white dog that slipped past behind the door with the Delta Ruin. But when he had turned to look, they were gone.

After that, Gyftrot had been so shaken that he decided to travel to the Ruins. Before everyone left, he had heard rumours that they had been opened up, and he hadn’t been there since his youth. So why not visit? It would take his mind off his troubles.

(Except they weren’t troubles. It was only the non-existent trouble of being more disturbed by peace and quiet than he thought was possible. It wasn’t him. It was his mind that was imagining dogs and fish monsters and loneliness that wasn’t there.)

The Ruins had not been the childhood home that Gyftrot imagined in his mind though. They were full of dusty cobwebs and fallen leaves, and otherwise as empty as Snowdin Forest had been. Even the spiders had moved out from the Ruins and run away to the surface! ( _Well_ , that certainly wasn’t _Gyftrot_ ’s fault! He hadn’t wasted any of _his_ precious funds at that stupid spider bake sale!) Gyftrot had looked down at an upturned jug of Spider Cider, spilled on the Ruins’ floor. The cider had been full of dead spider larva and silk, and it made Gyftrot nauseous – even more nauseous than he had already been, from the smell of rotten cinnamon and butterscotch that seemed to permeate the entire area.

Gyftrot had exited the ruins shortly after that, climbing carefully over the vines that criss-crossed over the ground near the door to the rest of the underground. Gyftrot had meandered on his way back, as unsure about going as staying, and ended up running into a Snowman by chance.

The Snowman had been able to talk. And Gyftrot had been so delighted to have a conversation partner, he had actually managed to be polite for two whole minutes, before he realised that the Snowman wasn’t mentally present. The Snowman was living vicariously through a piece of himself that that blasted human had carried to the surface.

After Gyftrot had shouted curses at the Snowman, he stalked away, blinking rapidly at the ground.

Everyone cared so much about the surface… Gyftrot was sure he was the only one who cared about what was left behind.

He trudged back to his home on the Snowdin Forest cliffs.

“Coward,” he shouted at the mouse, who still trembled in fear at leaving its hole. Even with an _entire_ plate of spaghetti as motivation, it couldn’t leave.

Gyftrot wasn’t so stupid he wasn’t aware of the irony, though. Gyftrot had returned home to sit on the cliffs. And he was still sitting there, afraid. He didn’t want to journey through the whole of the underground. He didn’t want to make the perilous trip to the surface. He didn’t want to make the journey, only to find himself as annoyed and frustrated by the others as he ever was.

“I’m too old for change,” he lied, “but you…”

Gyftrot stood. He walked over to his secret spot, behind the third tree from the entrance to the caverns. Buried in the snow was his treasure. He pushed the snow aside with his hooves and uncovered it. Gyftrot picked it up gently in his mouth and laid it out under the ‘stars’. He couldn’t see his treasure in the darkness, but he already had the figures memorised. It was a picture of Snowdrake and his mother, and it had once been taped to his forehead. He had felt silly requesting it back from the human after they had removed it, but he was glad he had it now.

Snowdrake had balked as his friends requested he participate in their prank and decorate Gyftrot. But he eventually caved and, significantly, used the opportunity to rid himself of the family heirloom he had carried all the way here, from his home at the Mettaton Resort.

“I don’t need your picture, mom!” Snowdrake had said, as he affixed the photo to Gyftroot’s forehead. “Not after you’ve left me alone in the ‘cold’!”

Snowdrake’s friends had pointedly not laughed at this statement. Chilldrake shifted uncomfortably, and Ice Cap adjusted the brim of his hat.

Gyftrot had laughed, though. And Snowdrake had brightened momentarily, before Gyftrot opened his mouth.

“Is that what you think, youngin’?!” Gyftrot sneered. “You and your friends may have me outnumbered, but a stupid punk like you… you’ll never amount to much the way you are now.”

Snowdrake shivered.

“That’s enough, old man-” Chilldrake had prompted, but Gyftroot talked over him.

“Mooching off your friends! Going around peddling rip-offs of your father’s jokes! You’ll learn, you will – once you give away these pieces of yourself, you’ll never get them back!”

Gyftrot had lowered his antlers and charged. He broke through their ranks and ran off, taking the photo with him, ignoring the protests of Snowdrake and his friends.

And the boy _had_ learned. He’d made amends. He’d stopped playing stupid tricks. He’d been more grateful for the meals Chilldrake had sneaked him.

Snowdrake had learned to hold himself better. And Gyftrot liked to take credit for that.

But even when Snowdrake had come back for his picture, Gyftrot had refused. And he was glad for it now. He looked at little Snowdrake in the photograph, and remembered that boy had grown into a rebellious teen, and then an adult who could respect the pieces of himself he’d had to leave behind when he went to explore the world above.

That thought kept Gyftrot going.

Gyftrot sat in the snow and closed his eyes to the darkness. Not today, but knowing that, one day, the mouse might leave its cave… That it might, one day, venture ahead through Waterfall and Hotland and up the Core to the exit… It didn’t fill him with determination. But it left him less empty all the same.

  



End file.
